


The Third Coast

by Fangirllikewhoa



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/F, Steampunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirllikewhoa/pseuds/Fangirllikewhoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosima Niehaus is an airship pilot tasked with ferrying people and cargo to the 1892 Colombian Exposition in Chicago by underworld boss Siobhan Sadler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why Cosima in goggles and a flightsuit on a dirigible came into my head, but there she sat until I released her onto the page.
> 
> I love World's Fairs and history, so while this will be fantastical, it will be rooted in fact where possible. 
> 
> If you like this [Come say hi.](http://fangirllikewhoa.tumblr.com)

“Ugh!” Felix kicked off mud-caked boots, stripped out of his similarly decorated jacket, dropped his trousers, and flopped down on the rug in front of the fireplace in his long johns.  “Truly, Sarah, I am not meant for this kind of work.  I’m delicate! An artist!  When they called for painters, I thought they might be interested in my skill with a brush, but really all they want is someone who can slop this bloody white goo up as fast as possible.  Look at me! I look like a ghost!”

Sarah turned from the kettle, bringing her brother a cup of tea with milk to take the chill off.  She had to admit that the young man looked a wreck with spatters of white paint run through his hair and dotting his face. “I know Fe, but we need the cash, yeah?  Mrs. S. hasn’t paid me yet for the last job and you insisted we move somewhere with better light for your work.  If you don’t like it we can move back to one of S’s houses.”  
  
Felix sighed with relief as he sipped his tea.  Somehow his sister made it better than even he did, though they used the exact same method.  “No, no.  I like it here. It’s closer to everything, and you have to admit, it is nice having the space to turn around without running into yourself.”  He sat up and crossed his legs. “I just wish I could do something else, you know? I think I’ve got a chance if I can figure out who is really in charge.  The bloke I worked with today said there were going to be murals in some of the buildings. Can you imagine? My work seen by hundreds, no- thousands of people. It would be brilliant.”

Sarah looked at her brother fondly.  She hoped he would get the chance to work on something more to his liking, maybe make a name for himself so that he could get free of the life they’d led so far. It certainly wasn’t the life her father had promised them when they left their East London home for America.  He was sure he could find a job in the airship yards in Chicago like their old neighbor had.  And so he’d packed them all up and they’d sailed to New York in steerage- dirty, crowded, and stinking of shit and piss.  It was there that their mum had first started coughing.

By the time they’d gotten off the train in Chicago, their mother had died and their father was fighting the consumption himself.  He’d settled them in a room in a squat little boarding house, but never left it until the undertaker came to get his body a few short weeks later.  The next week brought with it a woman in a funny hat who positively dripped with counterfeit compassion.  When it became clear that she meant to split them- Fe to the Orphan Asylum and Sarah to the Industrial School- well, they took a runner when she left to get them a bit to eat.  What else could they do?

That’s how they’d found themselves- Fe, just 12, and Sarah 16- working for Mrs. S.  She’d scooped them up off of a street corner where she’d found them begging for change and picking pockets. Eventually she adopted them to keep city officials off her back, and they joined their adoptive mum’s family- a ragtag group of whores and grifters, businessmen and ladies.  She protected the little ones, using them as messengers, lookouts, and pickpockets for the most part, sometimes as the bait in a con, but she also ensured they learned reading, writing and math along with cards, weapon handling and first aid.

Sarah did her best to protect Fe from the more grisly elements of S’s business, trying to make sure he did legitimate work as much as possible, and soon it became clear that Mrs. S. was also looking out for the slight boy.  She let Sarah take the more daring or difficult jobs and allowed Fe to work in the boarding house as a cook, or as a greeter in the brothel. In the last year he had separated from the business almost completely, perhaps the first person to have ever left the business with her blessing.

It had been nearly a decade now and Sarah still wasn’t entirely sure how deep Siobhan Sadler’s network ran, but it was crystal clear that she had her finger on the pulse of Chicago, and if she didn’t like what she saw, she could tighten that finger into a suffocating grip that more often than not could turn things her way.  She was a powerful woman, all soft words and steel spine, and Sarah was proud to call her mum, though they didn’t always see eye to eye. 

“Fe, I’ve got to go.  S wants to see me tonight; she sent one of the little ones to tell me.  I put a bucket of water on the fire for your bath.”

Fe looked up at his sister. “You’re too good to me, thanks.  I’ll see you later, yeah?  After I’ve had a nap I think I might drop in and see if S’ll feed me.”

“Alright.  I’m not sure where I’ll be, but if you need me S can find me.  Enjoy your beauty rest.”  With that she settled her cloak over her shoulders, slid her derringer into her handbag, and strode out into the night. 

 

 ******************              *******************

 

High above Sarah, drifting through the winter twilight, airship captain Cosima Niehaus was lost in thought.  Her first mate, Scott had convinced her to leave their home base in California for Chicago in order to provide transportation during the upcoming World’s Fair.

“Think of it Cosima- if we get in on the ground floor we might be able to snag some real business.  Remember what Sol told us?”

Cosima did remember what Sol Bloom had said.  Scott’s childhood friend had gone on and on about the fair in Paris just a few years before.  “You should have seen it! Dancers, artists, musicians…  There was even a Wild West show!  And the money…” Sol’s face had taken on a dreamy quality. “There were so many people putting down so much money.”

At first she thought he was being foolish.  The young man was always chasing the next big thing, and he couldn’t get the Paris fair out of his head. But then he came to her, asking for a private charter to Chicago.  He’d just been hired to manage all of the concessions and amusements for the Fair, and wanted to get there quickly.  She tried to put him off, quoting him a ludicrous price of two hundred and fifty dollars for the three day journey, but he agreed so quickly she thought she might have gotten him to pay more.

And so she found herself floating above the airstrip, waiting for the crew below to signal for a safe descent.  She was set to meet with a Mrs. Siobhan Sadler, a businesswoman who apparently was hoping to branch out and do some import/export work while also providing transportation to Fairgoers.  Cosima had replied to an advertisement to that effect a week ago, and now she was hoping to prove herself to the woman who had asked for an evening cruise around Lake Michigan by way of resume.

 Scott had spent the day tuning up the ship, and she was purring like a kitten.  She had cleaned the staterooms and polished the brass fittings in the small dining area.  The floors on the promenade gleamed, but then again, they always did.  Cosima hadn’t had the ship long, just a few years now, but she loved it and the freedom it represented and took meticulous care of it.  She’d won her in a card game from a miner who’d won her from someone in the game before that.  When she’d finally gone down to the shipyard to claim her, she was sure there’d been a mistake.  If that old miner had been the least bit sober when he’d placed his bet, she was sure he never would have put up the _Nautilus_.

She was a gorgeous ship, though perhaps she’d been used hard of late.  She had two levels: a dozen staterooms, a dining hall, recreation area and kitchen above, crew and captains quarters, engine room, and cargo below.  There was a small observation deck on the top of the ship where Cosima spent long hours peering at the stars through her telescope as they drifted through the sky.

She spent weeks learning how to fly, and quickly became friends with one of the grease monkeys down at the docks.  Scott was clearly a genius, but rarely got to show his mechanical mastery, as he was still an apprentice to the chief mechanic.  When Cosima offered him a place on the _Nautilus_ as her first mate and chief engineer, he’d jumped at the chance though she couldn’t offer him much more than room and board.

They’d started their business transporting businessmen from San Francisco to Saint Louis, then from New Orleans to New York.  She was well liked, got people where they were going on time, and didn’t ask too many questions.  Her crew was small and competent and quiet, preferring to spend their evenings in their quarters playing games to getting intoxicated, as was the custom on most small airships.

And now they were here, hoping to make a little money and make some connections in Chicago. If Sol Bloom was to be believed, this was the place to be, at least for the next year or so.  The city’s reputation was not exactly its best asset, but the announcement the year before that it would host the Columbian Exposition put a little more shine on the city that was hoping to show the world how it had rebounded from the fire that had devastated the city twenty years before.

Cosima was shook off her thoughts when she noticed the lights from the crew below had begun to wave her in for her descent.  She leaned into the speaking tube to alert the crew to prepare for landing. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been waved in to land.  Do take a moment to find yourself a seat or you may find that gravity finds one for you.”  She slid the throttle back and pushed in the yoke to start their descent. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a certain French doctor

Dr. Delphine Cormier sighed and pulled her goggles down to her chest. For not the first time, she felt that she was close to a breakthrough and then her whole experiment fell apart. She pulled out her pen and notebook and began to write up her notes from today’s trial, and concluded with her insights on what may have gone wrong. She set a new slide to culture and pulled her lab coat off for the night.

She slid her notebook into her handbag and turned down the gas lamps for the evening. She saw that the lights were still on in the laboratory down the hall, but she wasn’t in the mood to chat with her cohort. It wasn’t easy being the only woman at the Pasteur Institute, but her relationship with its benefactors, her aunt and uncle Boucicaut, ensured her a place of study, no matter how reluctant.

Of course, with auntie Marguerite’s recent death, she felt her isolation more keenly, but at least she could continue her studies on Mycobacterium tuberculosis. Ever since Koch’s recent revelation that the bacterium could be cultured, she was determined to find a way to slow or stop the bacteria’s growth. She owed her parents that much.

But tonight, like so many of the nights before, her experiment had failed. She tried to remember that this was the way of science- so many trials, so many failures. The Royal Society would have never discovered the properties of aether if it weren’t for their tireless research. Of course, they were funded to the utmost, and had a veritable army of scientists on the project due to the obvious benefits aether travel would have for the ever expanding British Empire. The last thirty years had revolutionized the fields of travel and communication as scientists learned to harness the aetherwaves’ power. To her frustration however, it appeared that most funding for the sciences was focused on aether research to the detriment of medical research, especially for diseases that affected the poorest among them the most.

It was with the knowledge of the dearth of funding that she had recently sent a request to Dr. Pasteur, hoping he would support her in her latest research design. When she had apprenticed at a clinic in Paris a few years earlier she had noticed an uptick in the number of smallpox, cholera, and tuberculosis patients just after the Exposition Universelle. She was hoping to travel to the upcoming Chicago exposition to work with doctors from Rush Medical College to see if her theory that mixing people from across the world hastened outbreaks of disease. In addition to her practical work on consumption, she promised the doctor that she would act as an ambassador of the Institute at the fair. 

Earlier today the Dr. Pasteur had brought her into his office. He was actually very supportive of her plan. He hoped that in addition to her studies she might be able to entice some of the newly enriched Americans to part with their money for research, perhaps most especially the cattle magnates who would doubtlessly be charmed by the pretty blonde who was at the cutting edge of microbiological research. When your livelihood depended on the health of thousands of animals, suddenly you became very interested in ways to combat the transfer of disease in both man and beast. Pasteur argued, and she agreed, that they might be willing to fund research into animal vaccines at the very least.

Of course if she truly wanted to go to Chicago she could go on her own, however, she wanted to work under the auspices of the Institute not only for the prestige of its name but also because she felt strongly in the value of collaboration not only with the medical community, but also with the public. The Fair had the potential to provide both opportunities for her and Dr. Pasteur had agreed with her plan. He had asked her to pay for her own travel, food, and lodging, but agreed that the institute would pay for her space in the Hall of Medicine and Technology as well as for the equipment she would need for her research. In fact, he thought that perhaps he would also enjoy the trip, once she had settled all of the details, and perhaps he would bring some of the other researchers once she had their exhibition set. She set her smile on her face and thanked the doctor for the opportunity, though it seemed like once again she would be the one doing most of the work while the others took credit. No matter, she was going to America!

She stepped down to the sidewalk and started her walk home.mShe was not in a hurry to get back to her flat, instead she wanted to take a moment to reflect on her plans. She had been to America once before- to New York with her maman when she was sixteen- and found herself excited to return. There was an energy there that was unlike anywhere else. And the science, the science was moving so fast in the United States, perhaps due to the lack of oversight, perhaps just because the Americans were brash and reckless as a rule.

Stopping briefly at the market for some cheese and bread, she then trudged up the stairs to her apartment and turned up the lights. She took a moment to butter the bread and toasted it on her stovetop, melting the cheese. This was her dinner of choice most evenings, preferring to spend her time in the laboratory instead of in cafes. She drank her tea and chewed her snack, pondering the things she might need to bring with her to Chicago. She supposed she should write to her colleagues at the Medical College and let them know that she would be coming. She prepared an aethergram to be sent, and popped it into the pneumatic tube to be sent to the operator for transmission. That was that sorted. She would next need to arrange for transportation and lodging as soon as she was able. The fair wasn’t set to begin for nearly six months yet, but to get settled and prepare her experiment she would need time to get a control group in place.

She turned down the lamps and stripped down for bed, head spinning. This was really going to happen. She was going to go to America and undertake the biggest experiment of her career. She was sure that she would be able to correlate the crowds with contagion. What she was hoping she would also find is that the contagions somehow differed depending on where in the world one was from. It was an exciting time, but she also felt exhausted at the thought of what lay ahead. Soon she slept, visions of microbes dancing before her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bargain is struck

Siobhan Sadler strode along the boardwalk, green-grey eyes lifted to the sky, watching the airship descend. She wasn't the type to be surprised by much, and certainly she didn't allow the awe she felt to be transferred to her features, but there was something about having lived through the lightening-fast advancements of this new industrial era that set her head spinning. She knew that it was important to keep up with the breakthroughs- one never knew when some young upstart might think that her place on top of the heap could be seized. Certainly, over the years, people had tried. If they were lucky she allowed them to live, allowed them to work with her. If they weren't... well, that was between them and the bottom of the lake.

She was increasingly glad that she’d asked her adopted daughter, Sarah, to accompany her on this trip. Though she was never one for her lessons, there was an innate street smarts to the feisty young woman that Siobhan admired. Of course, Sarah still had plenty to learn about taking one's time and plotting rather than going off half-cocked, but Siobhan had to admit that her daughter reminded her quite a lot of herself. Sarah was a fine negotiator, and though she was just as lethal as her mother, she tended to use persuasion and cunning rather than brute force to get what she wanted. As far as she could tell, Sarah's only weakness was her sentimentality, which was also one of her greatest strengths. Her loyalty was absolute and unwavering.

Siobhan thought back to the day she’d met the lass and her brother. She had caught Felix, and oh he was a scrawny little greasy thing, with his hand in her reticule. She’d grabbed him by the collar, intent on boxing his ears and sending him on his way when his firebrand of a sister had snagged her sleeve. Though most people in the city would have shrunk away at the look she delivered, Sarah had glared right back at her, hazel eyes flashing. “Oi! Let go of my brother!”

Siobhan released her grip on the boy who slunk back behind his sister. His hair fell over his eyes and he swept it back from his face as he taunted, “Yeah! What are you on about anyway?!”

Sarah exploded back at him, “Enough, Fe! Let’s let this nice lady get back to her shopping.” Her hand eased its grip on Siobhan’s forearm, but the older woman held it under hers for a moment, intent on imparting a bit of knowledge to the youngsters.

“Your boyo here is going to get himself killed. His hands aren’t nearly light enough to be dipping into pockets. Run on home to yer mum, and be grateful I was feeling charitable today.” There was steel in her voice, but still Sarah didn’t flinch.

Felix pushed forward, tears in his eyes, adolescent voice breaking, “We haven’t GOT a mum to run home to have we?! And I would have had your coin if it hadn’t been for…” the young man trailed off as he caught the intensity of the scowl his sister gave him as she turned from Siobhan and squeezed his scrawny shoulder.

Sarah gave a short curtsy, “Sorry miss, as you see my brother and I are quite alone in the world. I had no idea he was a cutpurse. We’ll just be going home now.” She curtsied again and turned to go.

Something about the young woman’s bearing, in the way she handled both her brother and Siobhan stopped her. She took in Sarah’s blouse and skirt, which was over-long and fraying at the hem. She had a carpet bag in her grip, all lumps and corners. Felix’s clothes fit him a bit better, but he was filthy, face streaked with grime, fingernails ragged and blackened. She softened her voice. “Hold on, luv. You know as well as I do that you haven’t a home. Take a walk with me. Let me buy you and this rascal a bit of supper. I have a proposition for you.”

Sarah eyed her warily, but the hopeful look in Felix’s eye had her nodding her assent. “Fine. Supper. But you’re not the first abbess to try to get me to join her flock. I’m not interested in anything more than filling his belly, you savvy?”

Siobhan admired the fire in her eyes, “I understand, chicken. Just some grub and a chat. I may do trade with the ladybirds, but nobody does anything they don’t want. I’m sure I’m not the first person to approach a pretty girl like yourself. You needn’t make money on your back, but perhaps we could still find a way to help one another out.”

“Fine. We can talk, but he stays out of it. Whatever terms we come to, if we come to terms, are between you and me.”

She held out her hand to the formidable young woman. “Siobhan Sadler. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

“Sarah. And this is Felix.”

It was hard to believe that had been a decade ago. And now Sarah was to take over this new enterprise, as Siobhan’s second in command. She had grown into a fine woman. Whip-smart, and though she hated to hear it, quite lovely. She had proven her worth time and again over the years, though she had never lost her independent streak. It was time to let her spread her wings a bit. Or at least fly.

They slowed to a stop and sat on a bench as the ground crew waved the airship into its slip.  
With a great groan, the ship settled. A miracle in wood, iron, brass, and canvas- the ship loomed over the docks, bobbing gently. She watched a quick and nimble crew set its moorings. It wasn't an overly large ship, but she had liked the confidence in the aerogram that Captain Niehaus had sent in response to her solicitation. She had taken some time to research the young pilot and had found a few contacts who claimed that she was fast, no-nonsense, and kept to the business of flying. Siobhan also knew that the pilot kept her crew small, with little turnover. This was a good sign when it came to her authority on board. If her aerial skills were as good as her reputation led Siobhan to believe, she would be a fine choice for the work she would need to have done leading up to the Fair.

Standing, she gestured to Sarah. "Ready, luv? Let's go get ourselves some transport."

Sarah stood, keeping a half-step behind Mrs. S., as they approached the airship. She schooled her features, which she knew had been loosed by the sight. "Ready as I'll ever be, S. I'm not feelin' too keen on making like a bird, but I'll give it a go."

Quiet hydraulic hisses emanated from the structure as the gangway opened and the gangplank slowly unfolded with clockwork precision. Siobhan waited as the final mechanism unfurled, gently touching down near her feet. A small figure appeared at the doorway and strode confidently down the ramp. She wore knee-high boots, and though clearly battered they were polished to a high shine. Tucked into these were a pair of leather breeches. Her chestnut hair was caught back in a leather thong, sleek and businesslike. Her costume was finished off with a high-collared woolen coat, complete with brass buttons down the front, epaulets on the shoulders and tails in back. It might have been a bit more imposing had the young woman actually buttoned said brass buttons, but on the whole she looked every bit the captain.

She stopped just shy of Siobhan and offered a small bow. "Mrs. Sadler. I'm Captain Niehaus, but please, call me Cosima. And this," she gestured to the airship "is the Nautilus. Are you ready to come aboard?"

Siobhan smiled, and it did not escape Cosima's notice just how predatory that smile was. "Thank you Captain. I am. This is my daughter Sarah, I hope you don't mind if she joins us?"

"Oh no, not at all. I love to show this old girl off, so the more the merrier. Have either of you been on an airship before?"

At this Sarah spoke up. "I've never really seen the need to leave solid ground, myself. But S here has taken the air line over to Detroit before. Right S?"

Siobhan smiled as Cosima gallantly offered her elbow. She laid her gloved hand atop the young captain's forearm and allowed herself to be led up the ramp. "I have. And while I do enjoy its speed, there is something unsettling about floating about like a cloud."

Cosima grinned. "Yeah, I can see that. Have you ever had the chance to see the aetharwaves though? You might feel better about the whole thing if you could see what was keeping you aloft. I'd be happy to show them to you up in the observation deck. My chief engineer, Scott, created a special lens attachment for my telescope. It allows us to see other wavelengths, including the one on which we will travel. He actually believes that there are yet more wavelengths that exist but that we humans still don't have the technology to see." Her eyes positively sparkled as she turned to include Sarah in the conversation. "Can you imagine?"

Sarah found herself feeling more at ease as the compact woman continued to speak. It was clear that she loved her ship, loved the technology, and understood it. That made her feel a damn sight better than the simpletons in her neighborhood who could barely cross the street on their own legs let alone pilot one of the new modes of transport. It was a relief, really, that they still used horses and cabs for the bulk of their travel, but she was willing to give this ship a try. After all, it was going to be an important part of their new business scheme. And she’d be damned if she’d fail Mrs. S.

It had only been a few weeks prior when she and Siobhan had discussed the ways in which the Fair might influence their work. Certainly they'd have a fair shot on the Midway, with both their pickpockets and their barkers. What they needed to ensure however, was that their hotels and bawdy houses were the most visited, that their libations were the most often enjoyed, and that their gambling halls took in the most cash. It was the perfect mess of underworld and above board that made the Sadler syndicate the most difficult to stop. Siobhan had her hand in the success of politicians and prostitutes alike, which was what made her so slippery. If she could just stay clear of the Hull house do-gooders, she would be set. Her biggest obstacle was going to be volume. She needed more girls and more product, and she needed it quickly.

This is where Captain Niehaus and the Nautilus would come in. She would be the final leg between the Indian subcontinent, Europe and finally Chicago. In addition she would be picking up a number of young women who were eager to ply their trade in the United States. Finally, she would mix her cargo and passengers with some passengers and trade goods that were of the less problematic variety. It had the makings of a perfect plan. She just needed the young captain to agree to it.

Cosima led her guests to the cockpit and asked them to take a seat. "If you're ready, I'll take her up. Once we're set on our course, I'll let Scott take over and I'll take you on a tour. For now, sit back, relax, and enjoy."

Cosima sat in front of the polished wooden and brass control panel; she barked orders into the speaking tube, and there was a slight bump as the ropes were pulled free. She flipped shining switches and pulled up on the yoke, and just like that they began to float above the docks.

 

Sarah sucked in a quick breath as the ship took off, a cinch in her otherwise steely armor. She tried her best to pry her own knuckles from the armrests as S sat passively next to her, old hat with this sort of thing. 

“So, to rise and fall we use superheated air- we’re coal powered- to make the air inside the capsule less dense. Once we’ve reached cruising altitude we let the aether take it from there. We channel the wavelength through our Tesla coil and its resonance ferries us along. I’d be happy to take you into the engine room if you’d like.” She noticed the white of Sarah’s knuckles and slid a lever, slowing their ascent. She leaned forward into the speaking tube. “Scotty, can you please come and take the conn? I’d like to take our visitors below decks.”

In just a moment, an awkward young man rushed through the door. He wore a similar uniform to his captain, though his was streaked with coal dust and his buttons were done up crooked. He rubbed a hand through his hair to smooth it down and smiled eagerly at the women. “Scott Smith, Mrs. Sadler, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed slightly at Sarah, “and you ma’am.”

Cosima noted a slight tightening around Sarah’s eyes and shepherded them out of the bridge. “Come on, let’s have a quick tour shall we?”

Sarah groaned, almost inaudibly, and Cosima turned to her. “Why don’t we start in the dining room. I’ll have cook bring some peppermint tea. It’ll help with the nausea.” She grinned a little lopsided grin. “You get used to it, I promise.”

Sarah looked gratefully at the captain. “Yes, let’s do that. I could do with a cuppa.”

They wound their way through narrow halls to the dining room. Though windows offered what were surely breathtaking views of the lake, Cosima sat them near the middle of the room. A young man brought them tea and a plate of petit fours. Before Cosima was able, Mrs. Sadler pulled the tea service close and began to pour.

“Ok luv, let’s cut to the chase.” S smiled, a kindly serpent, her fingertips touched lightly together before her nose. “I need you to run some...supplies for me. In return, we can negotiate payment. Perhaps a portion of the profits, half on contract, half on delivery as well as a set ration of goods or services.”

Cosima’s face remained unchanged in the wake of the offer, it was hard to say if she was contemplating her options or not, such was the tranquility she put forth. This is what she was like in the air, a Hannibal, a Caesar. She was not to be trifled with and she did not care who or what S. was. She had done some investigating of her own, and found that Siobhan Sadler’s name carried with it a certain weight. By all accounts she ran hotels, bawdy houses, and gambling halls, not exactly the kind of business for a lady. However, when pressed, everyone she’d asked agreed that though she could be calculating, Siobhan Sadler was fair. Not one of the aethergrams she’d received had said a word about being undercut or played foul. She leaned back in her chair, popping one of the tiny desserts into her mouth before smiling. 

“I think we can come to terms Mrs. Sadler. Here are mine. I will ship any cargo you like, provided you are honest with me about what it contains. The manifest can read whatever you like, but to keep myself and my crew safe, I need to know what we’re dealing with. I will transport human cargo, but I will not take anyone against their will. They will be put up in staterooms, though we could likely add bunks in some like in our crew quarters depending on how many you think to bring. You will pay room and board, up front. I’ll take my pay in cash- fifteen percent of the expected profit- half on departure, half on arrival. If you’ve got a line into India, I’ll take a portion in ganja. I’m not in need of any…services, but my crew would likely partake. They can pay the going rate, less a seventy-five per cent discount.”

Sarah leaned forward. “Fifty,” she countered.

“Fine. But you’re coming too. If this whole thing goes down the bog, I’m not going to be the one on the hook, especially given the trip across the pond and back.”

Siobhan smiled, and before Sarah could utter a protest, offered her hand. “Deal. I believe we this has the makings of a lovely relationship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who have been so supportive of this odd little world. And thanks to oddgirlout for pulling her red pen out, even though it is summer.


	4. Chapter 4

“SCOTT!!! If you do not get that deuced coil back on line I am going to string you up and hang you off of the crow’s nest!”

The diminutive captain’s voice boomed across the deck to the engine room where Scott was bent over the coil, wrench held in his teeth. He continued to mutter as he twisted wire into place, capping it before bending to slide a bronze lever slowly forward. He was gratified to see the coil begin to glow, and hear the tell-tale whir of his engines coming to life.

He turned to shout his success to the bridge, but pulled up short at Cosima’s presence directly behind him.“Oh! I got it, Cosima. See? Glowing and happy. And, I think you’ll appreciate that if this works as it should, we will see a 5.5% increase in efficiency.”

Cosima felt her irritation at their delay dissipate as she took in the proud grin of her chief engineer. Swallowing back the biting remark she’d had at the ready, she smiled tightly at him. “Thank you Scott. I’m sorry. It’s our first run for Sadler, and I don’t want anything to get cocked-up.”

“Cosima, all’s a treat here. We are ahead of schedule even. We should leave for New York by mid-morning, provision there and and then we’ll pick up the Atlantic Aetherstream. We will be in Lisbon in a week.”

Cosima sighed and continued to pace through the engine room. “Right. And we will have deliveries there and in Barcelona.” She flipped through a sheaf of papers. “And then it’s a quick turn around here before heading back to… France.”

“Cosima, we’re ready. The ship is ready. The crew is ready. Let’s get Sarah on board, and we can be off. If they’re done loading?”

His last words were to her back as she strode from the room, heels clicking on polished hardwood, presumably to check on the loading process. Her mind was abuzz with their last minute preparations. She needed to get Sarah settled in her quarters for the trip and submit her manifest to the dock master after a little careful editing before they could finally disembark.

There was a lot to be done, but she thrived on this kind of activity, and the excitement of a new venture. This opportunity with Sadler was too perfect- she’d get to fly for days at a time, and make better money than she had thought possible when she first floated the scheme to her crew. She was determined not to foul it up.

 

…...  
To the outsider, it may have looked as though an experiment had gone awry. An explosion even. Half-full bottles and papers were strewn across all available surfaces and trunks stood open and at the ready. Dr. Delphine Cormier sat staring at her book shelf. Six months. She had to be prepared to pack all she would need in America for six months. But how could she know if the texts she wanted to refer to would be available? What if she could not find the titrating solution she found to be the most useful? These worries spiraled out of control until she found herself staring at her bookcase, sitting on the floor, legs akimbo and texts surrounding her, practicing her English.

“Hello. I am Dr. Cormier. How are you feeling today? Can you please breathe deeply for me? For how many days have you felt ill?”

She almost jumped out of her skin when a reply was forthcoming from her doorway. “I am feeling quite well, Madame Docteur.”

“Oh! Guy! I did not realize you were still here. It’s quite late is it not?” She was glad to see the reedy young man, though she had thought all of the members of the institute had left for the day. He too was a bit of an outcast, perhaps due to his age or his shy manner. They’d begun a friendship of a kind after finding that a staff meeting had been convened without their ever having been invited.

“Indeed it is. I was downstairs working with the other anatomists on a new specimen and it appears that we lost track of time. When I came up, I noticed an aethergram was waiting for you, and I thought to leave it on your desk.”

Feeling rather caught out, Delphine moved to stand, but found herself covered with papers and her skirts weighed down with texts. “Would you please hand it to me? I find myself quite overtaken by my work.” She smiled brightly at the young man and watched a blush rise to his ears. She might have thought he had a bit of a crush on her if it weren’t for his admission one evening over a bottle of wine, well, several bottles of wine, that he found no interest in the fairer sex and fancied himself a lifelong bachelor.

“Of course Dr. Cormier.”

“Guy, call me Delphine, please.”

“Yes, right. Delphine. Here you are. Appears to be from America.” He bent to hand her the small slip of paper, “Are you excited to be going, to begin your research?”

“I am…” she considered her reply, “I am more than excited Guy; I am positively thrilled to begin this. I believe I will be able to make a real difference. The science of these diseases is moving so quickly! It is my great hope that we will be able to eradicate consumption altogether. If I can be a part of that, even in a small way?” She finished shifting the books and papers around her and stood. “Well, it will all be worth it, won’t it?”

“I’m glad to hear that Delphine. You have been working very hard. Perhaps Dr. Pasteur will allow me to come when he brings the Institute’s contingent over. I look forward to seeing your findings, that is should you want to share them with a lowly student?”

“Oh of course Guy! I will send you results if you like? I would appreciate the ability to discuss my findings in my native tongue.”

Guy grinned, “That would be wonderful. I shall leave you to your packing and will look forward to your missives. But, Dr. Cormier… Delphine. I do believe they have books in America.” With a sly grin and a wave, Guy left Delphine to read her aethergram.

Her colleagues at the college had arranged transport for her. Just over two weeks and she would be boarding an airship- the Nautilus, bound for America. And she would only be allowed four trunks! She looked around at the chaos that had become her office. Two weeks. Nodding resolutely, she began collecting her papers into a sheaf. This was going to take some careful culling. She sat down and began to make a list.  
\------

 

Sarah Manning stood on the dock, watching the burly workers load crates full of salt pork, leather, flour, and other less innocuous supplies onto the ship for trade. Her keen gaze followed each man, watching them come and go from the cargo hold like so many ants. She tried to ignore the growing knot in her belly as she saw the stock diminish, as this would mean she would soon be expected to board. She turned and paced back to the cab that held her luggage. 

“Oi, Felix, come here!” She looked around the port for her brother, finding him also watching the dockworkers, though for perhaps a more prurient reason. His body turned to her, but his eyes were riveted to a burly young laborer. Slowly he tore his eyes away, only after the young man had stood from a squat with his load in tow.

“What is it? I’m busy, ensuring the goods get on the boat.” He turned and took in his sister. Dressed in long black skirts, with a deep burgundy crushed velvet corset over grey blouse that he’d chosen, one could almost ignore the pallor of her skin. She looked, as she preferred, beautiful, but slightly dangerous. There was something in the set of her jaw, the line of her spine that screamed caution to anyone astute enough to notice it. Felix knew the thought of flying scared her, which would make her that much more hazardous. She dressed to intimidate in the hopes she would not have to interact with anyone.

“It’s going to be fine, Sarah. Didn’t you say that the captain was up to snuff? S wouldn’t send you if she thought it was at all dangerous.”

“I know Fe. I think I might be ok on the trip to New York, but the idea of crossing an ocean on that thing… it makes my skin crawl a bit.”

“Don’t get caught up in that, think about beautiful cabin boys, or starry skies. Think of all the bloody money for that matter. This is going to be huge Sarah. And S trusts you. It is what you’ve wanted forever, your own operation. And you’ll be back before I can even miss you.”

They watched as the workers brought the last few crates aboard. He pulled a flask from his waistcoat and handed it to her with a wink. “Laudanum. You may want a bit before you head up and away, yeah?”

She took the flask gratefully, and pulled a quick swig. “Thanks Fe. I’ll be back here in ten days. Do you think you can handle it? That strange engineer, Mr. Smith says that you should be able to send aethergrams to the ship.” She looked to the sky, squinting, “I have no bloody idea how that works, but if you need me you had better send up a shout.”

“I will. And don’t you worry. I’ll be spending my days slopping paint, and nights at S’s since you won’t be around to feed me.”  
“You’ll be fine. Keep an eye on Kira for me. I know S and the girls will spoil her rotten, but maybe I will see if I can send her a note for you to read to her. She’s never been without me this long.”

“I will. She’s bound to have a marvelous time between all of those women fawning all over her. It will be impossible to get her to read or do her sums, but I will do my best. Don’t worry about her. She’ll be with family.”

She looked up when she caught motion in the corner of her vision. Mr. Smith was at the gangway motioning for her to come aboard. She took another swig of the laudanum, hugged Felix tightly, and made her way up the ramp. At the top, Sarah was escorted to her stateroom where she quickly opened the porthole to get some air. She appreciated the room’s tidy appearance. Though small, her linens were fresh, the floors shined, and the fittings gleamed. She trailed her hand over the railing that wound its way around the room and hoped she would never have cause to hold it. Before she knew it, Captain Neihaus’ voice boomed over the speaking tube “We have been cleared by the dockmaster for takeoff. Our estimated arrival in New York will be just under twenty-four hours. Please find your seats as we begin our ascent. Once we’ve caught the stream, I will let you know that it is safe to make your way around the ship.”

Sarah felt a slight jostle of what she imagined to be rigging falling away, and an uncanny floating sensation. She made her way over to the porthole where she saw Fe waving madly at the ship as it slipped its moorings and rose higher and higher above her beloved city. She closed her eyes tightly for a brief moment, and set her jaw. She was working now, and couldn’t let anything distract her from her job. Breathing deeply, she sat down on the bed and began to unpack a few of her things. 

In the end, the trip was uneventful. They were well provisioned in New York, Scott’s extra 5.5% propelled them across the Atlantic faster than she had initially planned, and all cargo was loaded and unloaded in Lisbon and Barcelona without incident. Her passenger manifest grew by ten young women and two young men, none of whom spoke English particularly well, but who kept to themselves for the most part anyhow. When they arrived back in Chicago in twelve days time, they were met at the dock by a beaming Siobhan Sadler.

“All went well, I trust?” Cosima waited a moment before answering, not sure if the question was meant for her or for Sarah. “Oh, yes. It went very smoothly, wouldn’t you say Ms. Manning?”

Sarah glowered at Cosima. “I told you, it’s Sarah, and yeah, it went off without a hitch. Everything was well set, and we didn’t even have to leave the ship really. We’ve got a dozen new employees and a nice stock of wine for the cellar. The captain here is a fine driver. After the fifth day, I could almost feel my feet again.”

Cosima smiled at the faint praise, but looked Siobhan squarely in the eye. “I think we all agree that our arrangement is going to work out well." She waited for a quick nod from Sarah. "If you’ll excuse me, there’s a lot to do before we turn around for France.”

Siobhan motioned to the small group that had begun to chatter in Spanish and Portuguese. “Come on you lot. The cabs will be here soon, and we’ll get you settled in. I’m Siobhan Sadler, but you can call me Mrs. S. I will sit with each of you to discuss the terms of your contracts tomorrow. If you would like to elect someone to translate for you, that is fine.” She looked at the group, pleased with her decision to offer a worldly selection for the connoisseurs of the Columbian Exposition. “Welcome to America.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Enchantée_

They were forced to layover in France for three days while cargo was loaded and unloaded and the ship stocked for the return voyage. Though they were originally only supposed to layover for a single day the weather had caused a delay in their shipment from India and so they were forced to wait. Cosima didn’t like being away from the _Nautilus_ for long, and as such spent most of her time at the dockyard watching crates going in and out of the cargo bay and spent her nights in her cabin as usual, though she allowed her crew shore leave. It had been raining for days and the ground was covered in thick mud that sucked at the soles of her boots and caused the workers to slip and slide as they brought the cargo from the docks into the hold. She sat on a barrel under a canvas awning and scowled, ensuring that if a crate was dropped it came straight to her for inspection before being loaded onto the ship. It didn’t take long before the workers slowed down to avoid interacting with the small but surly pilot.

Though the dockmaster didn’t like it, she allowed her passengers to begin their stay on the ship early- it was obvious that many of them had nowhere else to go due to the unexpected delay. Cosima didn’t know exactly what was in store for the rag-tag group of travelers that were making their way aboard. She had assumed most of them would work with Mrs. Sadler in her various flesh-peddling or gambling establishments, but Sarah had told her that she was also looking for help in the kitchens, waitressing, and doing housekeeping. Being an immigrant herself, Mrs. S. had a soft spot for people who were hoping to come to America to make a life for themselves. Sarah certainly talked about Siobhan as though she was her savior, but it was equally clear that she had a healthy respect for the woman, if not a strong thread of fear.

At first her crew had tried to speculate on which of the new passengers was slated for which enterprise based on their clothes or the way they carried themselves, but Cosima had long given up trying to judge that sort of thing, and honestly, so long as everyone was game, she didn’t care how they made their money. The captain’s attitude could be attributed to being mostly brought up by her father, the erstwhile miner and long-time gambler and the citizens of the backwater mining camp where she’d been raised.

*****

Walter Niehaus was more than a little confounded when an eight year-old Cosima was delivered to his doorstep. Her mother and he had enjoyed one another’s company for a number of months when he’d spent time up on his claim deep in the Sierra Madres. She ran the general store in the tiny mining camp closest to his northern claim, and they’d found themselves spending time talking and laughing over whisky and water many an evening. It wasn’t long before he and Thea had tumbled into bed after a particularly long philosophical conversation fueled by drink.

Apparently the little girl was the result of their short-but-sweet affair. Cosima’s mother had never tried to find him though he would have been happy to make an honest woman out of her regardless of her storied past. He was no great catch himself- he drank too much, gambled nearly every night, and used language that would make most ladies blush, but he and Thea had hit it off right away. Cosima told him, wide eyed and with a voice that shook, that her mother had caught yellow fever and that she hadn't suffered long. Thea's assistant, a young man named Jake, had tracked Walter down and brought both Cosima and a tidy sum of money to his door along with a letter that he had penned for the sickly woman before she passed. In it Thea had assured Walter of his parentage, and certainly the math worked out correctly. She insisted that Jake be allowed to buy out her store, with dividends coming to Cosima quarterly. She apologized for not telling Walter about his daughter sooner and begged him to take good care of her, explaining that she could read and do sums, and loved books, though they may be hard to come by. Walter, for all of his faults didn't question for a moment his part in creating the tiny creature with the big whisky brown eyes, after all, the same eyes looked back at him in the mirror behind the bar at the saloon. He figured they'd just have to find a way to get along.

Cosima, for her part, was skeptical of the arrangement, regardless of her mother’s deathbed assurances. She carried all of her belongings in a small rucksack, her prized possession- a small, brass, collapsible telescope wrapped carefully in an oilskin pouch. Walter cleared out a corner of his cabin for her, hanging a blanket for privacy. He added a chamber pot, a small table, and a bed. She spent most of her time there, reading the Sears catalog or tending to the little kitchen garden out back. After dinner, she would go out back and look at the stars through her telescope before returning to bed, where he could hear her quietly crying until she fell asleep. He wasn’t sure what to do with her at all, except to give her time to grieve. The two of them eyed one another across the dinner table for days until finally it was Cosima who broke the silence. 

"I don't know if I like you, but I guess we are stuck with each other, huh?"

Walter grunted. "Ayup. I'm sorry I didn't know about you, little one. I sure would have liked to, but your mama had her reasons."

"She said you moved around a lot."

"I reckon that's true. I'm a miner- have claims up and down the Sierra Madre. I suppose I might should think about settling down some and I ‘spose you'll need to go to school."

Cosima thrust her tiny chin up in the air, "My mama taught me how to read and write, and I'm a dab hand at sums. I did our ledgers with her at the store last year."

"Well, that sure makes an old man feel proud. What's say we go into town and see what there might be for a youngster like yourself? Maybe find a school or a tutor, or at least some books?"

Walter made Cosima attend lessons in town with a tutor until it became clear that she was smarter than her teacher. She was twelve. Unsure of how to proceed, Walter asked the barber surgeon if perhaps he could use help, as his daughter had shown a particularly fair hand in the natural sciences. The doc had agreed that she could sweep up and help with the bookkeeping in exchange for an apprenticeship of a sort. She followed him on his rounds throughout camp, learning how to treat various small ailments. The biggest draw however, was his large library that he allowed her to use. She could often be found in the parlor of the saloon with a lemonade and a book as she waited for Walter to return from his claim. The young ladies there took her under their wings, teaching her the many secrets of womanhood, though she was rather disgusted by many of the lessons they imparted. Indeed, her upbringing wasn't the least bit conventional, but at least it was well-rounded.

It was a cold night in February when Cosima was fifteen that Walter didn't return from his claim. The proprietor of the saloon rode out at first light, finding him cold and unmoving at his claim. Suddenly Cosima found herself the sole heir to a small claim, a pile of gambling debt, and a little roughshod cabin. She continued to assist the barber surgeon, finding herself in some demand with the young ladies who worked upstairs at the saloon- providing care in exchange for dinner, or money, and when she was seventeen, certain favors, though she’d blushed at her own request. And so it came to be that Cosima Niehaus didn’t have much cause to judge people for how they made their living, she’d spent more time with gamblers and whores than upstanding citizens and found that by and large they were a less duplicitous species by far.

*****

“ _Merde!_ ” Delphine could not help the curse that escaped her lips. This rain was starting to get to her. First, the asinine limit on how much luggage she was allowed to bring, and now she had to watch her delicate scientific equipment be dragged through the mud. She lifted her skirts, holding them tightly in one hand and her umbrella in the other, trailing after the porter who was doing such a poor job with her trunks. She had dropped her valise at her feet, and was contemplating just letting her skirts drag when a pair of mud spattered boots came into view. Her eyes followed the boots up to a pair of buff breeches, a navy topcoat with shiny brass buttons, and a stunning young woman smiling with her tongue between her teeth. She seemed unperturbed by the rivulets of rain that were traveling down her face, her neck, before disappearing into the absolutely distracting shadow that fell between the lapels of her jacket, which had been left unfastened at the neck.

“Hey. Looks like you’re in a bit of a quandary.” Cosima motioned from Delphine’s skirts to her valise. “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe you don’t speak English. Um… _Vous aide?_ ” She cocked her head and reached down to pick up the small suitcase that sat at the taller woman’s feet.

Delphine smiled at the terrible grammar and worse pronunciation. “Thank you, I do speak English. Perhaps though, you do not speak French?” 

Cosima sucked in a quick breath at the cheeky response combined with the dazzling smile she was given. “I… no, I don’t, not really at all. I’m sorry.” She straightened her spine, bringing herself solidly level with the blonde’s shoulder before sticking out her hand. “Captain Cosima Niehaus, at your service.”

The flush of color that had risen up Cosima’s neck did not go unnoticed by the doctor before she reached out her hand, still clutching her skirts, and slid two fingers into Cosima’s hand. 

“Delphine, Delphine Cormier. _Enchantée_ ”

Cosima smiled broadly, blinking rain out of her eyes,“ _Enchantée_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay- end of summer is a bit insane at casa de fangirl. Another week or so and I should be back in a groove. Many thanks for your continued interest and patience.


	6. Chapter 6

By day two the passengers and crew were itching to head skyward. The _Nautilus_ was scheduled to fly from France with a short stop in Portugal before heading back to New York, Detroit, and finally Chicago. It was a rather circuitous route, dictated by a number of pick-ups and drop-offs that Sarah had added to their journey. Cosima knew better than to ask about the reason for adding so many ports of call to the journey, but did manage to negotiate a small bonus for the added stops. 

For her part, Sarah was finally getting her sea legs under her and had begun walking the corridors with considerably more swagger than her first few trips. Cosima had put her in charge of inventory control in order to give her something to do, and she seemed to actually enjoy the counting and recounting of boxes and crates. She wrote everything down on a ledger, scowling at the numbers. She often had a small, beautifully engraved derringer tucked into her pocket or under her belt, and when passengers and crew alike heard the stomp-click of her boots on polished wood, more often than not they would duck into the nearest cabin or hallway to steer clear of the intimidating figure.

Cosima felt a kinship with the young woman, both of them having been separated from their mothers at a young age, and knew that a lot of Sarah’s prickly attitude was a way for her to keep from having to interact with others. On their previous trips, she had often found Sarah wandering the corridors in the wee hours, or out on the observation decks drinking from a flask. There was a loneliness in her that Cosima found herself recognizing in herself as well. They both liked to stay busy, to feel needed. Sarah actually seemed relieved to have a tangible job to do during the flights.

Finally the cargo from India arrived to much huzzahing from the crew. Cosima asked Sarah to monitor its transfer into the hold so that she could go over the passenger manifest. If the cargo could be loaded and they had all of the passengers aboard, perhaps they could disembark in the evening instead of waiting for morning to take flight. As her eyes scanned down the list of names, Cosima paused over one. Delphine Cormier. She had been booked into one of the four private staterooms. The other rooms had been converted to doubles in order for Mrs. S. to transport more passengers and increase profitability, but Ms. Cormier had opted to pay the higher cost for some privacy. Perhaps that was where she would begin her headcount, stateroom 3, and the intriguing Parisian.

She made her way through the narrow corridors, a keen eye out for any sign of negligence in her crew's upkeep. The floors gleamed, the light fixtures shined, and there was the faint scent of orange oil in the air. She was proud of her crew- they were loyal and hardworking and proved their worth in myriad ways. It was the attention to detail that Cosima was most appreciative of-the _Nautilus_ wasn't only their place of work, but their home, and she was glad to know her crew treated it as such. Passing through the small observation deck on the second level, she noticed the shadow of something dangling. She slid the door open to take a further look and noticed that a cable had slipped free of its cleat high upon the bulwark. She shrugged out of her jacket and boots and began to climb up the rigging to put it to rights.

Dangling ten meters above the deck, she hung by the fingers on one hand- sinews straining as she reached for the cable. She leaned hard and gripped a decorative brass fleur de lis with her toes as she struggled to pull the cable tight enough to thread it through its cleat. She had finally gotten it threaded and was working to pull enough slack through the cleat to get it knotted when she was surprised by a voice below her. " _Mon dieu!_ Is everything quite alright, captain?" 

Cosima’s grip slipped, but she was able to right herself and tie off the cable before replying, “Oh, Delphine! Uh…” slowly she descended the side of the ship until she was only a few meters up. She jumped the last bit, and grunted as as she hit the deck before sweeping a few loose tendrils of her hair back behind her ear, creating a long streak of soot across her cheekbone. “Yes. Everything is in ship-shape. I just…” she gestured up to the cable. “I saw that a cable had slipped free, so I stopped to fix it.”

" _Oui_ , I see. I would have thought that such things would be out of a captain's purview."

"Oh, well, I suppose that might be true of some captains, but I love my ship. She's been with me through a lot, and it is the least I can do to keep her in good running order. And besides, any captain worth her salt would do the same.” She continued with her face a picture of earnestness, “There's no such thing as rank when it comes to the safety of my ship and my passengers. I take my job very seriously." 

Delphine reached out mindlessly to rub at the dark smudge on the crest of Cosima's cheek. "I see that you do, so much so that you are willing to risk life and limb. You really shouldn't do such things without some sort of...mmmm... I do not know the proper word. But you should have some rope to keep you from falling, or at the very least someone to witness should you fall and hurt yourself."

A thrill ran through Cosima at the tall blonde's touch, and she stifled the shudder that ran through her spine. She stepped back to regard the blonde, to escape the feeling. "You are probably right. I get my stubborn streak from my father- he never had much sense when it came to such things either. He and I have never been ones given over to prudence, but I take your point, Miss. And thank you for the clean-up. I'm afraid I may have gotten my instruction on grooming and manners from him as well, and miners aren't known for either."

She watched as Delphine tucked the handkerchief away before she replied, "Oh, it is really no bother at all. In fact I should not have been so forward. I'm afraid that caring for others is second nature in my line of work. I was not thinking."

They stood for a moment regarding one another, before Scott's voice rang out over the speaking tube. "Captain, please report to the engine room."

Cosima shifted awkwardly and shrugged her jacket back onto her shoulders. "I'm sorry, duty calls. Would you be terribly put out if we were to disembark this evening rather than tomorrow morning?"

"Oh no, not at all. I have been ready for days. I am quite eager to begin our journey, and to start my work in America."

"That's wonderful. I am hoping to make it so." She found herself giving a little bow as she backed off of the deck. "Please do let me know if there is anything at all I could do to make your trip more enjoyable for you Ms. Cormier."

Delphine thought briefly of correcting the captain’s use of title, but found herself simply nodding. "I will, thank you captain. I shall take this time to make sure all of my things are in order, but I look forward to our flight.”

Cosima turned and made her way to the engine room and her best friend, running her fingers over her cheekbone as she made her way down into the belly of the ship. Not since Adeline had she felt such an instant spark with another person. She wondered if Delphine felt it too, or if it was, as she said, just second nature to her profession. Of course, her profession. The blonde was uncommonly beautiful, and Cosima was sure she fetched a hefty sum, but, she couldn’t do it again, she absolutely could not get tangled up with another toffer. That path only led to heartbreak, as she well knew. Perhaps they could be friends though. As she approached the engine room she twisted her hair up into a bun, and ran it through with a pin before ducking through the door, her mood turning rather black.

“Scott! This had better be important!” she bellowed over the whirring of gears, “and whatever it is, you’d better be ready to lift off at 1800 hours!” Thoughts of Adeline, of Delphine were dropped as she saw the mess of tubes and flanges surrounding her chief engineer.


End file.
